


The Imperfect Bubble

by Dkey



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, F/F, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Tentabulges, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:46:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dkey/pseuds/Dkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is Kanaya's home recreated in a dream bubble too good to be true for the Jadeblood troll? </p><p>Yes, very much so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Imperfect Bubble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [northernvehemence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernvehemence/gifts).



No.

Just no. 

This was not supposed to happen. Not today, not ever. After almost a sweep of looking you were done, you were over her. Your ex-moirail, the object of your affections once upon a time, should have stayed in the past. She broke your heart and was broken in turn as some sort of karmic justice. Yet, here she is, running her finger down your chest and whispering terrible terrible things in your ear. 

Today started as normally as could be expected on a meteor hurtling through space at the speed of light. You woke up next to your girlfriend, got dressed, and fed (on Karkat) like most other days, but when you walked back out the door into the hallway you were suddenly transported into a world you hadn't seen in nearly two sweeps. Immediately the dry air, fragrant with the smell of flowering plants, hit your nostrils. The sound of flapping fabric against the wind blew into your ears. In front of you stretched a swath of soft green grass that melded into a sea of red-orange sand and stretched on for miles. 

You couldn't believe your eyes and glanced at your hands to make sure your distinctive illumination was still there, a beautiful, but grim, reminder of trials won and friends lost. It remained of course, and upon turning around you found your glow bouncing off the white paint of the towers you once called home. You were back on Alternia, back in the desert you once grew up in, an experience that had been far too long coming.

Of course, this wasn't really your home. It was simply a figment created in one of the many dream bubbles you have grown accustomed to floating through. But it was the first time you had seen it since you had left your old universe behind. For some reason the alternate versions of you and your friends throughout various timelines tend to stay away from the primes (a nickname for those in the prime timelines, like yourself) as much as possible, despite the fact that coming across any alternates is no more difficult than coming across someone from your own timeline. As such you haven't had the pleasure of returning to an alternate version of your own past until now. It had to have been alternate considering the fact that there were things subtly wrong with your hive the more you looked at it. For instance the notches on the door frame that indicated your height only reached to a little over 4 feet, the height you were two thirds of a sweep before playing the game. The fabric that flew from your home was practically new as well, a status you couldn't keep for more than a few months due to the bleaching nature of the Alternian sun, but was something that you renewed only when receiving the occasional guest.

Yet one specific detail stuck with you. Unlike the other bits that were simply out of place with the memory of an average day this had never been correct. You raised every tree on your property from saplings, planting them the sweep after your adoption as celebration. For as long as you can remember there had always been thirteen of them. You'd begin the day by looking out your window and counting them, and you'd end your day listening to the cool wind rustle through them. It was a precise number in your mind, and to see it changed feels like a violation of your very character.

It's then you realized why there were only eight trees. 

In a panic you rushed to open the door you had just left and head back into the meteor, but the cruel irony of your longing for home returned in full force as you found yourself standing in the first floor of your hive. Well, an idealized version of it anyway. While recognizable as your foyer the room had been completely filled with fabrics, plush, and the occasional eight ball. This isn't really your room. It's hers. And she wanted you to know it.

Then you felt the stinging swat on your backside.

"Damn Fussyfangs! You filled out gooooooood!"

Damn it.

You turned. There wasn't any escaping it. Vriska had you cornered, and she wanted to play.

She sat on the couch, a once white and vibrant piece the cloth that draped the furniture was now black and menacing. It was aesthetically pleasing, but not something you would bring home to your lusus, much like the girl sitting on top of it. She still had her hand up, ready to slap your bottom again if given the chance, but when your eyes meet she lowered it and leaned back into the cushions.

"Long time no see Kanaya!" She greeted in her characteristically sinister sing-song manner (something she developed to take the lower-class trolls off-guard before feeding them to her lusus no doubt), "What's it been? A sweep? Or would you prefer those 'years' that your human uses?"

"Not long enough," you replied while crossing your arms, "what do you want Vriska?"

After getting to her feet she began to circle you. She could smell your fear and used it to her advantage. You knew the answer to your question, the recreation, the immaculate attention to detail, the embarrassingly amateur dress you made her that she conveniently remembered to wear. She could only be here for one thing, and that's you.

"Can't I stop by to visit my old moirail I haven't seen in forever?"

"I'm not your moirail anymore."

It's now that she begins to drag her finger across your chest and presses her breasts up against your back. It's now that she moves in to whisper interesting things in your ear. It's now that you understand how irresistible she was while being so toxic to the people that fell for her. It's now that her true colors show, and you're afraid that she's caught you in her web.

"Good," she says close enough to send shivers down your spine, "because that's not the sort of quadrant I had in mind for you."

Your heart races. 

You once had sizable feelings for her, but you didn't have the rumblespheres to say it to her and let her pursue someone much weaker to toy with. Possibly for the best considering how that particular mess turned out, but at the time you would have gladly been her plaything, and part of you still wants to be.

"What's a matter Kanaya? Spider got your tongue? Feels like I'm having a conversation with myself."

Your eyes snap shut as her words simultaneously excite and frighten you. Her finger dances around your chest and get far too close to your more sensitive areas.

"I'm just a little confused," you manage to puff out as her finger dots poignantly over your right nipple, "you've been gone for so long and suddenly you're here d-doing this..."

You gasp as she places her mouth on your earlobe and gives it a light nibble.

"I just know how much you wanted this..." she says as her other hand runs down your side and attempts to squirm into the hem of your skirt, "...and how long you've wanted it."

"You ignored me..." you manage to breathe through her relentless assault on your common decency, "...I don't want you anymore..."

"Well then maybe that was my mistake. I never did get to tell you how much that little show of yours turned me on. Nobody handles a chainsaw as well as you."

You hear the clasp on your skirt release and you feel the fabric slip down from your hips, to your thighs, to its final resting place on the floor. She murmurs something about you being so soft before she rolls her fingers down into the waistband of your panties. Her dainty fingers tickle as they brush against your body in search of your nook.

Your mind feels hazy... and something is nagging at you as she continues to move downwards... but as her fingertips trace your nook any thoughts you had disappear. She moves her hand up and down around your folds and finds where your breath hitches before moving back over that spot. Her fingers start to become slick with your juices and more and more easily glide over the outside of your sex before finally dipping a finger into you. Hot shivers radiate from your nook as she pumps her digits in and out of you with a deliberate motion while simultaneously using her other hand to massage your breast. You teeter on the edge of climax before a crook of her finger drives you over the edge and causes your bulge to spring from its sheath, along with a good amount of genetic fluid.

You can't see her behind you, but you can tell that Vriska is smiling from the mischievous giggle that comes from behind you. She seems pleased, possibly more pleased than she has any right to be, and takes her hand from your nook.

"I bet I'm better than that human matesprit of yours."

Shit.

All at once the haze lifts and your mind becomes clear. This... this isn't right... You were done with Vriska. You have a commitment to Rose.

Immediately you free yourself from Vriska's grip and send her backwards into one of the gaudy overstuffed chairs she desecrated the memory of your hive with.

"What's wrong Fussyfangs? You think your girlfriend is gonna go crazy about a little fun between friends?"

You can't bring the words to your mouth. They lodge in your throat like glue prevent anything from passing your lips. You're disgusted, at her but mostly at yourself. Yet as you manage the strength to glare her way you see someone standing behind the cerulean blooded troll. It's hard to make out who it is considering the fact that the figure is cloaked in the only bit of shadow left in the room, but you'd know those atrocious powder blue slippers barely sticking into the light anywhere. 

"Rose?"

Vriska's devilish smile spreads wide across her face.

"What, she didn't tell you Maryam?" She says with a laugh, "This was all her idea in the first place!"

You raise an eyebrow and look at Rose's silhouette for some affirmation. Her violet eyes stare back at you from the darkness, but don't give any indication as to the truth. Instead all you see is the gleam of a crystal glass as she raises it to her lips.  
"Oh don't worry Kanaya, she's not mad." Vriska says, motioning behind her, "She's just not talking cuz that was part of our deal, otherwise she'd be yammering on like crazy like she always does. Anyway, what she told me is that I've been so incredibly irresistible for so long that your little secret flush-crush has started looking for any chance to escape into the open, like when you sleep, when you've tried those human soporifics..."

You arch your eyebrow, you're not sure you like where this is going.

"...when you fuck."

Your face turns a bright green as the memory of occasions you've let loose her name come flooding back. You were sure that Rose had never actually heard you grunt them but...

"That girlscout you're dating came to me and told me that you needed some extra release. Honestly it's kinda hilarious, I thought you didn't want anything to do with me (you know after you punched me in the face and I flew off) so I had been staying away, but to think that it's all because you wanted to hit this so much..." 

She smacks her own modest ass and smirks.

"...it's so deliciously ironic."

She pauses just to drink in the green blush permeating your face before walking getting up and walking over to you. Suddenly she lunges forward, driving her hands far past yours and grabbing your butt with both palms and splayed fingers.  
"Anyway, Blondie said I could hit aaaaaaaall of this as long as you say it's ok and she gets to watch, and after I saw you again how could I say no?"

You can feel your bulge throbbing and wiggling against her stomach. The white blouse (that is now far too small to fit her as anything more than an oversized shirt) is increasingly becoming stained a vibrant jade color as your viscous juices make their way through the cloth.

"What do you say Kanaya?"

The haze of lust once again washes over you, yet this time you feel stronger than before. You're driven, and before you can even understand what your own body is doing you find your mouth on hers. Your tongue invades her mouth and laps at her every corner. Her own tongue doesn't even have a chance to react as you deepen the kiss and simultaneously use your hand to move the strap of her dress. It falls to the ground without any resistance and reveals her waifish physique. You break the kiss with a gasp and look her up and down. This is it, this is what you've been waiting for, and with two words you say exactly what you both want to hear:

"Bend over"

She looks at you in bewilderment, in awe of your sudden ferocity. She's not sure what's gotten into you but the smirk that still sticks to her face means that she knows what she wants in her.

It only takes her a moment to find something to lean against. Your old fabric measuring table works wonderfully since you won't need to clean it up afterwards and the cotton and silks that still lay on the table will provide comfort and padding for what's to come.

She attempts to sensually move herself into position before wiggling her ass for you to move closer. Unsurprisingly panties never seemed to enter into the picture and as she bends over her wet nook is on full display. The deep blue hue of her folds excite you, and to see her turned on enough to have her own bulge poking out the top from within her sheath just furthers your lust. Genetic fluid flows from her, and you can tell that she's ready for you. 

But that's not what she deserves.

Instead you crouch down and place your mouth onto her. Slowly you dip your tongue into her, wiggling it to and fro. You hear her gasp as you run it around her walls and hit just the right spot, and make sure to keep lapping at any area that causes a hitch in her breath.

Of course you can't leave her bulge unattended. Despite the fact that her bulge is so much smaller than yours It takes no small amount of dexterity to wrangle it with your hand. Its mucus-like coating causes it to slip through your fingers every time you draw near, until finally you force it into your hands by grabbing at its base and moving along its wriggling shaft. As you stroke it up and down with your fingers you can feel her constrict around your tongue. Each movement you take is accompanied by a squeeze and soon the flow of juices from deep within her becomes too much for you to handle. 

"Fuck! Kanaya just... just take me already!" 

Now she's really ready.

You stand up and move yourself into position to insert your glowing bulge. You're ready just as much as she is, and without taking your hands off hers, your own bulge guides itself to her waiting folds. The writhing appendage instinctively moves towards the heat emitting from her nook and in a flash it dives deep inside of her. Unsurprisingly her genetic material lubricates your way deep inside of her and within no time you she constricts your tentacle. 

"Shit Kanaya, you're huge!"

She doesn't know the half of it. You move yourself further inside as your bulge presses against her in ways she could only dream of before nearly withdrawing yourself completely. Again you push yourself into her and feel her squeeze around every inch of your tendril. Her cries of pleasure tell you you're doing a good job. As you withdraw again her walls make every attempt to hold on to your member, begging you not to leave her empty. You oblige with a thrust and feel her shudder as you reach even deeper. She squirms underneath you and begs for more as you find your momentum, leaving her in a perpetual state of bliss. 

Below her you make sure to keep your fingers entwined with her own cerulean appendage. Every time you move inside it thrashes to and fro, grappling with your wrist for dominance. But you don't let her get the upper hand and wrestle back. 

Her moans are sweet, far too sweet for someone like her. You can hear her demanding release as you keep pushing and pounding at her sex, her words becoming less and less coherent as time goes on. It doesn't take too much longer for you to feel your own pressure build. Your genetic fluid ready to flow into her at the touch of a hat, but before it can happen there is something that needs to be done.

You bend over her bring your mouth as close to her ear as possible and whisper.

"You need me."

At that moment you flick the tip of her bulge with your thumb and a torrent of genetic fluid is let loose as she is pushed into climax. As if on cue she ripples around you and clamps down onto your bulge, causing your own tidal wave of hot genetic material to shoot into her. Her orgasm continues to milk you for all you have. You stay like that for a few minutes, bulge inside of her, before you feel a hand on your shoulder and a kiss on your cheek.

"I expect a repeat performance tonight," Says Rose as she places her glass on the table and begins to walk away, "Try not to tire her out too much during round two."


End file.
